After Enchanted
by Sumiare
Summary: [Crossover with Ella Enchanted.] After his marriage with Ella goes awry, King Charmont - under the alias Will Graham - finds solace with the famous foreign psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter. HIATUS


**Title: After Enchanted**

**Author: Sumiare**

**Summary: After his marriage with Ella goes awry, King Charmont –under the alias Will Graham – finds solace with the famous foreign psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter.**

**Word Count: 1, 652**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Light inexplicit violence between married couples, the fact this is one of the weirdest ideas I've ever come up with**

**Pairing(s): Hannibal/Charmont (Will Graham), Charmont/Ella**

**Notes: Okay so last night me and a whole bunch of friends were watching Disney movies and someone said that Hugh Dancy sang in Ella Enchanted and me, having my unreasonable obsession with Hugh Dancy, had to go re-watch that movie today. About halfway through the movie I came up with a fanfiction idea and was dying to write it down.**

* * *

They fought constantly now, a year after their marriage. With Charmont's twenty-second birthday and Ella's nineteenth, nerves tightened too taught, and at nearly every meal, evening, and ball – they were fighting. Often their squabbles were over trivial things – curtains, vacations, restaurants – but with both of their sharp, sarcastic personalities placed into the equation the fights escalated to full-on brawls.

Both Char and Ella were talented fighters and this often came into play in their arguments. Punches flew, kicks were launched – and more often than not it was Char who appeared bruised and bloodied in the castle infirmary. Nurses scolded him for picking fights with his queen while bandaging his wounds with careful precision.

"Honestly, your majesty," chided the head nurse, Jen, pushing a lock of her dark hair behind her pointed ear. After the Career Inhibition Law was abolished, hundreds of elves piled into colleges, earning degrees in record time thanks to their enormous amount of intelligence, which had been dampened under Edgar's tyrannical rule. Turns out the elves were phenomenal in the medicinal practice, and most of the castle's infirmary staff were now either elves or of elven decent.

"I know, Jen, I know," Char sighed. "'I shouldn't pick fights with Ella,'" he continued in a soft tone that implied that this wasn't the first time he had heard this spiel from Jen, resting his head in tired, bandaged hands.. In the year past the king had grown a good amount of stubble, making the once boyish prince appear much more mature.

"I just don't understand why you two fight so much," Jen sighed, sitting back and scribbling down a few things in her ledger, where she kept track of the patients and what she gave them. "Last year you were so lovey-dovey."

"They call that the Honeymoon phase," piped up Jen's assistant, Lucia, helpfully as she put away the supplies they had used to fix up their king.

"Yeah, well, that ended after our honeymoon," Char sighed, standing. "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies, I'm meant to be doing paperwork."

"See you soon, your majesty," called Lucia and Jen in unison, already anticipating his return as the king exited, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. The scruffy-haired royal headed to the Hall of Records, where they kept the yearly census and where Charmont tended to do his papers. It was quiet in there, and he was rather fond of the way the dusty room smelled. (As a child after his parents' deaths he often retreated to the castle library to wash away the lingering pain brought back by seeing their enormous painted portraits in the hall. Of course Char grew out of this, but he still enjoyed the earthy smell of books years afterwards.)

With a quick push the king opened the door partially, squeezing into the small room and shutting the door quietly behind him. The bookcases stretched all the way to the ceiling in there, and only one wall didn't contain one of those enormous shelves, there was a large painting of a bowl of fruit. (Char didn't particularly like it, but it wasn't his place to get rid of a painting that had been there since as long as he could remember.)

He plopped into the chair at the rickety wooden table (which was also covered in books, as well as a small collection of candles for extra light); tugging out the pack of paperwork he had left here last night. The giants were applying for funds for more farming supplies, and of course Charmont was stuck with filling out the papers to give them the money. It, surprisingly, took a lot to take care of small matters such as this. He sighed, finding a quill and dipping it in an inkpot and started scribbling down the numbers for the giants' application.

It took several hours, and when Char finally finished it was well past mealtime. Ella would not be happy that he missed dinner. He'd have to tread lightly to avoid sleeping in the guest chambers again. _Hell hath no fury, _Charmont thought, pushing into the hallway and wincing when the door creaked long and loud.

* * *

"And where exactly were you at dinner?" Ella growled when Char appeared in their bedroom with a loaf of bread and a glass of milk. He froze in his steps, not thinking she'd be awake still, and turned slowly with the look of a frightened animal.

"I-I had to finish the paperwork for the farming thing," he stammered, inching towards their closet so he could change (and eat) without fear.

The brunette woman stood, her loose nightgown draping like a curtain around her body. It was a blue color, with long sleeves that ended just at her wrist. Her long hair was tied back as it usually was when she slept. Her eyes were hard as she approached her husband, arms crossed over her chest.

"That's no excuse for you to miss dinner. I told you my dad would be here tonight, and you don't even bother to show up!" Ella snapped, her hands tightening on her sleeves. Charmont flinched in apprehension, wielding the bread and the milk as if it would protect him from the wrath simply emanating from his wife. She snatched his dinner from his hands and tossed it to the floor. The glass shattered, milk spilling over the clean wood, and glass spread out like a wildfire. And of course, Char was speared incessantly with the shards, hoot drenched in milk now.

"The hell was that for?" he screeched, hopping backwards and clutching at his injured foot, although this irritated the glass in his skin, and sent a new wave of red blood dripping down to the floor.

Ella was obviously trying not to look guilty so she'd be able to place the blame on him. "You didn't show up for dinner, so you don't get dinner," she growled unconvincingly. Despite this Charmont still found himself fearing her fury.

"That's no reason to _break the glass on my foot,"_ he hissed, stepping back and falling into a chair. There was a little bell above him, and he reached up and rang it quickly for medical attention.

"I-" Ella stammered, backing up towards their bed.

Char didn't say anything. Soon after the doors were opened and Jen walked in, with Lucia close behind carrying a small box of medical supplies. They approached the king, and Ella stepped farther away to let them through. When Jen saw his injury she shot a look to the queen, and Ella gulped audibly.

"Miss," chirped Lucia. "How about you and I go for a walk while Jen fixes Char up for you?"

"A-ah, yeah, that's a good idea," mumbled Ella, and she and the assistant nurse slipped out the door.

"Queen Ella really did a number on you this time, Your Majesty," sighed Jen, using tweezers to carefully pluck the shards of glass from the king's bare foot, and then cleaned the wounds with a mixture of herbs that Char wasn't familiar with. Before that she washed the milk from his skin, mumbling something about it getting sticky if it was left like that.

"I don't understand why she's so angry all the time," he grumbled annoyedly, wincing when pressure was applied to the numerous gashes on his food.

Jen looked rather uncomfortable. "If you would, King Charmont," she advised, "I'm not the one to complain to. I'm under oath not to keep secrets from the queen, and if she were to ask…"

Char blinked. "Oh, yeah…"

Honestly it would make him feel better if he were able to complain to someone about his wife. Perhaps if he got it off of his chest they would be able to return to the, as Lucia put it, Honeymoon Phase.

"If you want someone to talk to, I could point you in the right direction," Jen said suddenly, finishing wrapping his foot thoroughly. The white bandages stained red with blood, but it wasn't wet to the touch, and so Char figured he'd be fine for the evening.

"Really? Thank you, Jen," Charmont grinned, unable to hide the excitement he could feel bubbling up within him. Surely this would work, and he and Ella could return to their happy days.

Jen ripped a slip of paper from her ledger and scribbled an address and a name onto it with one of those fancy new ballpoints, and then handed it to the king.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

2240 White Forest Trail, Suite B

Kyrria

"What sort of name is Hannibal?" Char wondered aloud.

Jen shrugged. "They say he's not from around here, but he's quite the famous psychiatrist."

Char had read about that particular form of medicine in his studies as a teenager. They specialized in simply talking to patients, but through the art of psycoanalyzation they were able to pinpoint if their patients had any sort of mental disorder. Charmont tried not to feel insulted at being recommended to a doctor for the crazies, and failed, but if Jen thought he'd listen to Char's complaints…

"Jen? Could you send a note and get me an appointment?"


End file.
